


Cafés and Castles

by aurilly



Category: Heroes (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-09
Updated: 2009-01-09
Packaged: 2017-10-02 18:56:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurilly/pseuds/aurilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three years into a future where Nathan's plan to round up the specials has become horribly international, Elle is in hiding in Prague. Adam runs into her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cafés and Castles

The first thing Adam liked to do when resettling in a city was to visit somewhere he had frequented the last time he was there. No matter how long it had been since his last visit, he was always able to find at least one familiar spot. It was a calming little ritual, one that helped him bridge past and present. This was how he measured time, in locational intervals.

Finding such a place was not difficult in Prague. In fact, in only a morning, he'd been able to recreate large swaths of his previous time in the city. By some miracle, the real estate agent was offering as a furnished sublet the same apartment of Strana Matevska that he had lived in back in the early 20th century. She'd found it strange that he was ready to sign the papers, sight unseen, but he could hardly explain to her that he had more than seen it.

But Adam had long ago stopped explaining things to people. It was usually best to leave them in the dark.

He strolled into a café on Wenceslas Square that he remembered having done a lot of business in. The menu was happily similar (breakfast doesn't change much over time). The place had the hardened veneer of history that is so expensive to recreate, and yet which exists in cafés around the world. Unfortunately, much of the place's historical look was due to polish rather than meticulous preservation.

"Good afternoon," he greeted the host in Czech.

He was given a seat by the window, tucking always spry legs under a wooden table. Adam always enjoyed these moments: with nothing to do but wait for someone to come by and serve you. If it didn't go on for too long (denoting bad service, ever an irritation), it was pleasant, a time to reflect.

The moment teetered on the edge of too long, and then fell right over it. Like an excitable golden bird, Adam bobbed his head around in search of the waiter's station. Seeing two servers occupied in other areas of the café, he surmised that the one left standing by the register must be his. She was a tiny girl making up for her height with ridiculous shoes that were silly for this kind of work. She had long blonde hair, almost down to her waist, terribly frayed at the ends…

Adam stared.

Yes, hair kept long so that people would think the ends were frayed from poor grooming, instead of realizing that they were frayed from constant electrical current running through them.

Although it was impossible for her to be here, now, about to wait on his table, Adam knew this could only be one person.

********************************************

He's reading Plato's Lives. It has been fourteen years since he first entered this cell, but it hasn't been a total waste. He has caught up on a world's worth of history. Life had always been too busy to do as much reading as he'd like. Keeping up with the times and knowing the right sorts of things to say to people had always been enough work, but these days there is no one to impress. Bob and Kaito have let their infuriatingly incorruptible minions serve as book shuttles who never fail to remind him that the knowledge he gets will go nowhere. Adam always wonders if these short-sighted fools understand what immortality means. He'll get out of here one day. Either one day they'll find that they need him for something and he'll work the situation to gain his freedom, or one day someone will enter the organization who can be manipulated to let him out. It's only a matter of time.

Until then, he will read.

The door opens. This doesn't happen often, given that there is a little trapdoor through which his food, books, and other supplies come. Adam gets up, readying to treat the visitor to a show of respect that he's sure he won't actually feel. Always better to make people feel that they're special, even when they're not. Contrary to what he expects, a child walks in.

The little girl enters with the calm self-possession of an adult. She's primly dressed, with a perfect little sailor dress, white tights, and black shoes with a strap. The only thing about her that isn't pristine is her hair, which falls below her waist---or it would, were it not flying about everywhere. It's completely fried, as though subject to too much sun-damage, but that is impossible, as her pale skin betrays not even the hint of a tan. In fact, she has the pallor of someone who has suffered incredible physical strain that no child should have to suffer. That doesn't seem to affect her attitude, though.

In conversation, as in fencing, making the first move renders a player at a disadvantage. Adam doesn't know why this little girl should be considered a challenger, but for some reason he thinks it prudent to let her have the first parlay.

"Hi," she says confidently, and sits down in the chair he just vacated, swinging legs that don't touch the floor.

Adam hates children. At this age thry aren't quite as bad as the younger ones, with their lack of a functioning inner monologue, and feeble motor skills. Oh, and the drool. Most of all (and the reason he is loath to admit, even to himself), he hates the innocent and often correct logic they are able to apply to situations. It's a kind of logic that is lost with age and which he sometimes wishes he still retained, sort of like how every so often a completely inexperienced scientist can make a huge discovery that has eluded researchers with decades of experience, simply because the neophyte has flouted rules he didn't know existed. Life would be less exhausting if he could do things correctly without applying his centuries' worth of know-how to every situation.

He knows that she's waiting for him to barrage her with questions and demonstrate confusion, so he won't. So, he picks up his book and moves to the other side of the room to sit on the bed. Opening it, he ignores her and pretends to read.

They stay like this for a couple of minutes, and then her patience runs out. "Don't you want to know who I am?"

Without lifting his head, Adam merely flicks his gaze upwards. "I'm sure you'll inform me in due time," he pleasantly replies. And, just as a child always did, she innocently finds a way to disarm him.

"Daddy told me you'd be a good person to release on."

Adam may have no idea what she's talking about or who her father could be, but he does know that trying to bait him into asking her questions again, so he plays it cool.

"I'm no therapist, of any description," he says coolly. Tell your father he made a mistake."

She frowns, foiled again. "You'd better do what I want, or he'll make you less comfortable than you are now."

Ah. She just answered one of his questions. He wonders from whence Bob suddenly produced this insolent brat. "I once spent a week trapped under a head horse, and I got over it. I doubt there's anything Bob could do to make me less comfortable than that."

"You're Adam," she states after a moment's thought.

He doesn't dignify this with a response. Yet another reason why he hates children: always wasting breath on the obvious.

"Daddy says that's probably not even your real name," she continues matter-of-factly. "He says you've probably had so many names, you don't even remember what the first one was. So, you kind of don't have a name at all."

Now that she's looking for him to respond to this obnoxiousness, Adam decides to turn the tables and ask her something. "And what is your name?"

"Elle."

"Well, in a way, you don't have a name either. Elle just means 'she.' Any she, every she. So in a way, you don't have a name at all, either."

They are quiet after this. He intends to force her to speak again next, but the plan changes when a sustained bolt of lightning suddenly erupts from her outstretched fingers. He screams loudly as his skin crackles and burns. Once he's laying face-down and barely conscious on the floor, his shirt in ashes, she stops and walks in a circle around him, admiring her own sinister handiwork.

"I'll bet you didn't expect that," she says, talking to what she clearly assumes is his painfully dying form. "Daddy says you're a bad man and deserve all you get. And boy, did that feel good."

Adam can feel his regenerative ability begin to kick in, but Elle hasn't yet noticed. Once he feels his face heal, he moves into a sitting position with as gracefully as possible. The little girl gapes and staggers backwards towards the door, from where she watches the rest of his torso heal.

"I'll be you didn't expect that either," Adam says, and forces himself to smile. "I think you've met your match. It's nice to meet you, Elle."

********************************************

The owner, doing host duty by the door, had noticed Adam looking around for his waitress.

"Constanza! You have a new table!" The girl jumped and immediately picked up a heavy tray of drinks with one arm and a menu with another.

Adam immediately put down his head so that she couldn't see his face as she approached. He wanted maximum drama for this moment.

"Hi. Here's a menu," she said, in atrociously accented Czech.

Adam finally looked up and smiled broadly. "Hello, Elle," he whispered.

She turned pale and fell down. The tray of sodas she was carrying for a nearby table crashed and spilled all over her, all over the floor, and all over Adam. The owner stormed over. While Elle was still scrambling to regain her balance, he began screaming at her in Czech that Adam could tell was too fast for her limited language skills to comprehend.

"Don't worry. I'm not upset," Adam said, responding in Czech to the tirade of abuse the man was hurling at Elle. The man smiled, pleased to find himself with someone he assumed to be a native rather than a difficult tourist.

"I'm so sorry, sir. I will get you another server, and this one will be fired."

Elle understood enough to catch that and looked as though she was about to cry.

Adam put up a hand. "Please, no. There is no problem here. It was entirely my fault. Please don't make her suffer any consequences."

The owner looked at Elle for confirmation. When she nodded hesitantly, he looked suspiciously between her and Adam. His eyes narrowed and Adam knew exactly what was going through his mind.

"If that is the case, then enjoy her. Sorry to have troubled you," the owner said. And he left them alone. Elle was still shocked, but her natural nonchalance was quickly returning.

"And what will it be this morning?" she asked, in English. "Let me guess, cappuccino and a chocolate croissant."

"Yes to the croissant, but switch the cappuccino to a mocha," he replied. "You probably didn't know this, but I eat a lot of chocolate. I remember a time when it was a luxury, and I still think of it as such. Therefore, I have it every day---when I'm at liberty."

Elle rolled her eyes as she wrote the order down on her pad, but Adam saw that her lips kept threatening to curl up into a smile as she walked to the kitchen.

When she returned with his food, she remarked quietly, "Bringing you breakfast. Like old times, huh?"

"You never brought me breakfast." It was true, too.

He watched her attend to other tables. She was a terrible waitress, probably hired by this man only to look pretty and speak English for the tourists.

"I'd like to see you," he said out of the corner of his mouth when she finally came with the bill. He wrote an address on the bill and pushed it to her along with his credit card. She silently took it and went to the register. When she returned with his receipt to sign, he noticed that she had crossed out the address he had given her and written a new location and time for the next day on the customer copy.

"For once, don't you think it's time _you_ came to see _me_?" she challenged before walking off to tend to another table.

********************************************

Elle knocks, and Adam responds with a ringing, "Come in!"

He doesn't care that she's been waltzing into his cell whenever she pleases for the past six years; if she doesn't knock, he won't talk to her. There's no rhyme or reason to her visits. Sometimes she'll come every day, and then sometimes she'll stay away for a week. He knows that she battles within herself about what it means to her to visit him. This is progress. He's also made sure that over the years, electrocuting him has become less than half the fun.

She absently twirls a long lock of hair around her finger. Where other girls her age would probably look shyly into their laps, Elle stares eerily into his eyes. And now he finally gets it.

She's started to do it lately, and it unnerves Adam more than anything she's done in her twisted, abnormally powerful childhood. He's never been around a child long enough to have had this happen to him before. As she billows her pleated skirt to be able to sit cross-legged next to him on the bed, he scratches his head at the thought that here, in this cell of all places, he's actually experiencing something new.

Adam has always been observant, but having never had anyone grow up around him, the little signs have been passing him by. The disappearance of pigtails, the disappearance of the little white socks with ruffles on them, the slight maturing of her ever-bizarre prattle, her growing interest in new topics.

"What's new today, my dear?" he asks kindly, to mask his discomfort. He had just gotten used to thinking of her as his little girl---not his in a parental sense, but as someone who belongs to him; now he's going to have to start thinking of her as something else. He doesn't know how to make this transition.

"My birthday is this week," she states.

"On Thursday, yes?"

This was what she wanted to hear, for she beams and throws her arms around him. "You remembered!"

"I don't have very much else to keep track of in here," Adam wryly observes. She ignores the reminder of his incarceration and continues on in her embrace, which goes on a little too long. He's stiff at first, but then relaxes into her. With an uncomfortable start, he realizes as she presses her chest up against his that she really _is _growing up.

"Daddy got me the greatest present," she says excitedly.

"What is it? Let me see," Adam patiently invites. In previous years, Bob has bought his daughter jewelry, clothes, and shoes for her birthday and for Christmas. Elle has never failed to come and show it off to Adam, the closest thing she had to a friend, and has been waiting for the day when she realizes how sad this is.

She pouts. "I can't. It's not the kind of thing I can bring in here. It's in my room. It's a piano."

"That sounds wonderful," he says blandly.

"And a few of the staff got together to give me a surprise party."

"I wish I could have been there," he says, with meaning.

She shrugs and Adam can see in her eyes that their situation is bothering her for the first time. "Eh, it wasn't all that great. But I do wish you could come to my room to see my present."

He knows it isn't quite yet the time to push this, but Adam decides to try anyway. "You could make that happen," he whispers seductively, and rests his hand lightly on her bared knee.

Elle blushes again. Adam can feel her shiver under his touch. This is too quickly becoming a game so much like the ones he has played with a hundred women, and it saddens him. He pulls his hand back and his body away from her, the closest to ashamed that he's felt in quite some time. For someone who hates children, Adam realizes he has come to like the relationship he had with this one, although, maybe it's because he had no one else to talk to.

"I'd get in huge trouble, and I don't want to get in trouble."

"Why not?" This is new. She's never minded before. Hell, she's _here_, which used to get her into trouble enough before Bob tired of trying to keep her away.

"Daddy says in a few more years, if I'm good, I can start training to be an agent."

"Why would you want to be an agent, Elle?"

"It seems really cool. It's like being a Bond girl. But better, because it also means I'll get to use my power all the time."

"I worry about you. You place too much stock in your powers," Adam tells her seriously.

She rolls her eyes. "You're just down on powers because yours sucks."

Adam is shocked that after all this time, after all these afternoon spent in his company, she still could think something so ludicrous. "Is that what you believe?"

"Yeah, pretty much. What can you do? Heal. Big whoop. You can't use that for much. What if you never get into an accident? Then what good is it? All you do is live, but look at how you've been living for the past 20 years. All your power is good for these days is making you fun for me to play with."

"Living is everything."

"Everyone lives. You just do it longer. I can do _this_." And she brandishes the now familiar blue lightening.

Adam shakes his head. "That's exactly your problem. All I do is live, and each day teaches me how to do it better. Even my days in here. On a basic level, I'm a functioning human being---the best functioning out of all of you because I've lived for so long. You, my sweet, are the epitome of a non-functioning person. All you have is your power. Without it, where would you be? A pathetic, and not even tragic little girl with no identity. The secret to being one of us is to live as normally as possible and use your power as an advantage. You do the opposite."

Elle's eyes darken at the truths she doesn't want to hear. "Shut up."

Adam doesn't know why he bothers trying to reason with her, but he persists. "You know I'm right, and one day I'll show you."

"Oh yeah? When? Last time I checked, you were living in a prison. Oh right. Last time I checked was right now," she says snottily, her hurt feelings making her bristle even more than usual.

Adam shrugs, not letting this get to him. "Last time I checked, you were living in a prison, too. It's just that yours is a few rooms bigger than mine. Anyway, one day you'll see."

"When?"

"When I'm once again free."

"Daddy will never let that happen."

Adam simply smiles.

********************************************

It was late afternoon when Adam arrived at the spot written on the previous day's bill. Leave it to Elle to pick a cemetery for their rendezvous. Unlike most cemeteries, though, the place was crawling with tourists.

He wondered if she knew about his adventure with Hiro and those few days he had spent locked in the coffin. It had been the absolute worst thing that had ever happened to him. He hadn't had much truck with cemeteries before (Adam wasn't the type to attend funerals unless they were state ones); now he had a horror of them.

He finally saw Elle come jogging around a bend, her coattails flapping and her hair in her face as she panted towards him.

"You're late," he said, trying to look stern.

She was actually confused at his reaction. "You know me. I'm always late," she stated, as though it were one of those universally known truths.

"I suppose we've never had a formal appointment before so that I could learn that fact."

"Yeah, I guess," she acquiesced, sticking her hands in her pockets and rocking awkwardly. There was still something of the teenager trying too hard about her, even now that she was without a doubt all grown up.

Now that he had a better look at her, without having to worry that they were being watched by her employer, Adam could see how ill she looked, and drawn. This wasn't the bouncy Elle he remembered. However, becoming too concerned would get in the way of his plans, so he pushed aside any lingering distress about her.

"It's going to get dark not too long from now. Are you sure this was the best idea? My plan, which you rejected, was infinitely---"

Elle shrugged. "Yesterday I saw what you looked like in the morning. So today I wanted to see what you looked like in the evening."

"Really? How flattering." Adam had to admit that he was touched… until she started to smirk.

"No, it's actually because I know you're scared of these places," she teased.

So maybe the spark wasn't completely extinguished.

"So, how are you, Elle? What have you been up to?" Adam asked as he took her arm and silently instructed her to start walking. They were close enough to the other toursts to blend in, but not so close that their conversation could be overheard.

"I live with someone," she wheezed quickly. "I live with a man."

Adam paused for a moment. This was just like their first meeting, when she answered questions he hadn't asked. "I'm very sorry," he replied.

"What? What are you talking about? I just told you that I'm shacked up with a guy and---" she began huffily.

"The simple fact that you told me 'a man' instead of gushing over your new boyfriend tells me that you find yourself in a sadly platonic situation that you would do anything to tip over into a more romantic realm. Am I correct?"

Elle grumbled quietly, but did not deny it.

"And you're a waitress now?" he asked. "Why did you pick that?"

She shrugged and looked off into the distance. "The only thing I was ever trained to do was be an agent. When that was over, there wasn't much else I was qualified for. So waitressing it is."

"And you're as terrible at it as you are at being an agent," Adam observed.

That dangerous look that Adam remembered returned to her face. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that it is rather silly for you to expect me to believe that you moved all the way to Prague just to be a waitress and that your doctor friend moved here with you to be a taxi driver."

Shocked, she stopped walking. "How do you---"

"I have my means," Adam answered evasively. He knew how to check up on people, and how to check up on them quickly.

However, Elle was still flabbergasted. "But yesterday you were surprised to see me. I _know _you were."

"I make it a policy not to remain surprised for long. You two aren't as good at being undercover as you think you are."

Elle grabbed his jacket. "I thought you were here because we're friends. What do you really want, Adam?"

"The same thing you two want. The next list of evolved humans that the UN is going to start hunting. I want to help."

"How did you know?"

He smiled but refused to answer the question. "So, are you with me? You two have been trying to figure out where and when the list will be delivered. I've been looking for a way inside. It seems that we were destined to team up, after all. What do you say?"

She thought for a moment. "Is there a catch?"

"I make a copy of list and then give it to you. That's the only catch."

"And I guess you're not going to tell me what you want it for, huh?"

Adam grinned evilly. "Of course not. But I promise not to do anything harmful with it. So…?"

She mulled this over. "I guess it's a date."

"Wonderful. Tomorrow night, meet me at 8pm on the Charles Bridge. And don't tell your non-boyfriend."

"Why not?" she asks, finally remembering to be suspicious of her old friend.

"I have a feeling he wouldn't like it. But I'll let you take full credit for a successful mission."

"Aww, aren't you always so sweet?" she spat sarcastically. "I'll think about it. No promises."

But she squeezed his arm nevertheless before running off again, and Adam knew what her answer would be.

********************************************

Adam hears the door to the neighboring cell shut and sees Elle walk right past his cell's glass observation window without so much as a glance inside.

She hasn't come to see him in over two months, and for the first time ever, Adam is experiencing heartbreak that isn't romantic in nature. He isn't bored, because he now has Peter to talk to through the wall, and the realization that finally his ticket out of here has arrived and that he has a new game to play is exhilarating.

It's his pride that is wounded, though. He's put 16 years of his life into cultivating this relationship. That's longer than he's given any relationship (fifteen years was the maximum that he'd been able to stay in the same place with the same people and identity before people began to notice that he wasn't aging and before an accident befell him that might give the show away), only to be thrown aside for a similar new toy. It's insulting, and it scares him to think that he's actually started to care about her. When did that happen?

"Watch out for that one," he falsely warns Peter through the wall. "I succumbed to her once and have been paying the consequences ever since."

He hopes Peter will take the bait. It's petty and mostly a lie, but Adam convinces himself that this is really about making sure that Elle's little game doesn't interfere with his. Yes, that's all it's about.

The next day when he hears them kissing, his stomach curdles and he's glad for more reasons than one that Peter has finally regained the use of his powers and can get them out of Primatech.

********************************************

They were blazing through the hallway of the underground facility, and Adam felt a surge of déjà vu. However, when he felt déjà vu, it was usually because he had actually experienced a very similar situation. This time he thought of Peter as he watched Elle slash and burn her way into the undercover facility Adam's contacts had told him was where he'd find the list. He looked at Elle. It was the most alive he had ever seen her, illuminated only by the light she herself created.

"You're beautiful like this," he remarked as he strode.

"Thanks," was her offhand reply, but he could see that she was grinning. "This is weird, going on a mission with you. I've had lots of partners, but…"

"Never one as good as me, I'll bet. I never thought much of the 'one of us, one of them' rule. That was Kaito Nakamura's idea, silly sod."

She laughed and they reached the room that he knew was their destination. "You've taken out most of the security, and did beautiful work with those two bodyguards, but now I need you to overrun the power in the building entirely. It's the only way we'll get past this last lock. The list is being held in a safe in this room."

"No problem. You might want to stand over there, though."

"Nothing you can do can hurt me."

"How could I forget?" And she let out the kind of blast he'd never seen. It left her shaking and sweaty, but, like the first time she had ever come into her cell, he could tell that it had been cathartic. Suddenly, a hand was on Adam's back, flipping him over. Shots rang out and Adam threw himself in front of Elle to protect her. Their attacker squinted and stared at her.

"Constanza?" he asked, stunned.

"Hi, Milos," she simpered.

The man lowered his gun and tried to help her to her feet. "What are you---?" was as far as he got before she zapped him with a strong blast. He screamed and crumpled to the ground, burned hideously.

"Come on, Adam," Elle ordered.

Adam picked himself up. "What was that about?"

She smiled. "What did you tell me once about having a power-free back-up plan? Mohinder found out that he'd be one of the ones guarding the place, and we found out that he really liked this one café, so I got a job there to charm him every day, for just such a case as this. Proud of me?"

He had to say he was. "Yes. Now, let's go."

They ran into the locked room and, after some hunting and nervous bickering, found what they were looking for. Adam knew of a back entrance, so they ended up sneaking out. Elle was surprised to find herself at the back of the castle, on the top of a hill.

"Who knew there was a secret facility in an old castle? Wacky."

Adam had no time or desire to marvel. He'd seen wackier. "I need you to torch this wing in an electrical blaze. No one can know that we or anyone else was here. We want it to look like it happened to catch on fire. Then, let's leave."

She did as she was told, and they two of them watched for a moment as the place went up in flames. Adam had faith that the fire squad would come before any damage was done to the actual historical parts of the castle. He and Elle walked hand in hand back to the city, finally having a chance to talk like normal people. She told him what she'd been up to all this time, all the little distractions and hardships of a life on the run. How her father had been killed, how she'd only had one person to turn to, how they'd made it their mission to save as many people with abilities as possible.

They stopped by a copy center and made a Xerox, just as he had promised. As he handed her the original he said, "Well, I suppose that is all."

She spun to face him. "What, you're leaving now?"

"This was my only reason for coming to Prague. Just as it was yours. I have other work to do."

"Where?" she whimpered despite herself.

"It's best if you don't know." He ran a finger through her hair and kissed her chastely on the top of her forehead. "And Elle? I have a hint for you. Make him come to you. Like you've been doing recently with me. Some of those old 'rules' really do work. Look them up."

She blushed. "Thanks."

And he left her standing in the middle of the square. He turned back to look at her once, but the crowed had already swallowed her.

********************************************

Adam feels himself returning to consciousness and the burns on his back beginning to heal. He'd broken his nose on the wall of the dock warehouse when Elle's blast of electricity had hit him, and he'd smashed it more when he fell to the floor. Thankfully, he can feel it healing nicely. The Haitian must have moved on. Therefore, he knows that he will find Elle standing above him.

Sitting up, he rubs lingering soreness from his neck. "Nice job."

She's standing there looking irritated yet frightened. "Ok, you're coming with me now." But the words sound hollow.

"I highly doubt that, love. You're too small to take me by yourself now that your useful Haitian friend is gone."

She's wringing her hands and shocking him as hard as she can, but without the power suppressor, the burns heal instantly and without any ill effect. "No, no. This can't be happening. I'll get in so much trouble. I haven't done well on a mission in forever and Daddy will kill me."

"What did I tell you long ago about needing a power-free back-up plan, Elle?"

"What are you going to do now?" she inquires.

He gets up and brushes the wetness off his suit. "I'll figure out some business. I always do."

"Will I ever see you again?" she asks desperately.

"Probably." And he disappears into the darkness.


End file.
